Tuesday, November 13, 2007

Don't you hate when you do something dorky? I am such a dork. Seriously. Sometimes I can disguise it. Most of the time, though... not so much.

Today I went to lunch at The Boy's school. It was their annual holiday dinner. Yum, yum... Instant mashed potatoes with turkey and gelatinous gravy plopped on top. As I was standing in line to eat such delectable goodness, The Boy's teacher took a look at my outfit (purple blazer and top, black dress pants) and said, "Hi Mrs. R! Purple sure is your color!"

Here's where I became a dorkus maximus. I said, rather enthusiastically, I'm afraid, "It sure is!"

I didn't have time to explain why I answered that way - before I knew it, The Boy's teacher was off complimenting other parents, who I'm certain replied with much more grace and tact than I.

The Boy's teacher was paying me a compliment, telling me I look nice in purple. She must have thought I was quite the egomaniac with my response, because clearly you don't say "yep - I sure do look fabulous in purple" as a response to a compliment.

My face is turning red, just thinking of it.

But I'll explain to you why I answered that way, because, well, it might make me feel better. Or not. Probably it will just make me dwell on my dorkiness even longer, but whatever...

Purple is my favorite color. It's been my favorite color since I was teeny tiny. I love the color so much that I wear it A LOT. People at work have commented before on how much purple I have in my wardrobe. I was thinking Mrs. H's comment was along those lines, which is why I answered the way I did. Those dumb words were out of my mouth before I realized that Mrs. H, who sees me about three or four times per year would have no idea that I wear purple all the time, and would therefore not be telling me that purple is my color for that reason.

I know that in the grand scheme of things this isn't a highly embarrassing moment, but I'll keep replaying it over and over in my head until that queasy feeling in my stomach shows up. Why did I say that? I'll ask myself for about three days. Then I'll do or say something that trumps even this dorky incident, causing my mind to obsess about the new dork action.

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